


The Book of Love (M!DB/Vilkas)

by Nudebeme



Series: The Artist and Vilkas [18]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Makeup, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no end to the lengths Chac would go to, to win back the shattered heart of Vilkas, his fiance. The man he left at the alter, the man he'd tormented day in and day out for the months they've spent apart since that night. It is not until they come together to seek solace in Mara's embrace do they realize that there is a chance for them yet. Becoming messengers of Mara's teachings of love in turn give the suffering lovers a new understanding of what they really have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A WIP, with several chapters soon on their way.

"You may not return here until you’ve sought forgiveness from every heart you’ve harmed here today! Only then will her divine grace judge you worthy again."

 

Those where the last words he'd ever heard from the man who'd been sworn to marry them. Chac knew he'd made the biggest mistake of his life those months ago, and he'd lived with the abject misery it's caused him every single moment of his days since then. He'd never been so ashamed, ashamed that the world knew, ashamed that he'd taken something so precious and delicate as Vilkas' love and smashed it to bits. He never _wanted_ this to happen, but it did, and Chac had to make amends before anything else. Defeating Alduin could wait, those old husks up in High Hrothgar will have to sit around longer, because as of right now nothing mattered more in Chac's life than to make Vilkas his again. 

 

And try he did, he tried so damn hard. Farkas beat the ever-loving crap out of him that night and it only happened again and again, and for some weeks Chac remembers not even being able to get in the same building as Vilkas before he was sent off by his furious brother. Vilkas wanted nothing to do with him, that much was certain. The Nord had a protected heart, and what Chac did humiliating him on their ruined wedding day was something Vilkas would mourn for the rest of his days... _unless he fixed this._

 

Eventually Chac was able to speak to him again. It took a damn long time, but even fury like Vilkas' had to wane the longer the Nord realized the remaining love for Chac that hid somewhere in the abyss of his anger. When they met it remained civil; soft and painfully short conversations that led to naught but more heartache for them both. Chac even tried playing his mournful music for the Nord behind a closed door when Farkas was away, and Chac never knew what it really did to his fiance. How it made the tough-as-nails Nord weep silently in his bedroom, wishing all of this had never happened. He loves Chac and he knows it, but he couldn't forgive him. 

 

Winter turned to Spring. The flowers bloomed, nature giving new birth to the coldness that was their world. It wasn't until one morning when Vilkas stepped out into the sunshine did he realize that he needed to give Chac another chance. This life spent alone after already giving his heart to Chac was not a life at all; merely an existence. A lie. Scrambling in a fever for a scroll and quill, he wrote a note for his Bosmer lover. Most of it he'd already forgotten by the time he'd sealed the envelope and sent it out for him, but he did remember the most important piece.

 

“ _Each day I ignore the call of my heart, the weaker it becomes. It longs for you just as I do, for the days we shared before this horrible fate. I do not forgive you, but I want to so badly. Take me with you. Set this right and find a way to ease our pain, because I know you can. Come to me, to Jorrvaskr, and I will follow you for as long as it takes.”_

 

And Vilkas waited. He was adamant on taking this unbelievable weight off his heart, no man should have to live like this. Damn the waiting, he spent the next four days alone with his anxiety. Farkas couldn't know about this, his twin would go into a blind fury at the very idea of Vilkas wanting to be with Chac again; the hulking man thought of their Harbinger as nothing more than a sleazy bastard with a title.

 

When Chac arrived, looking as disheveled as the day he'd last seen him, Vilkas couldn't think of anything to say. His Harbinger merely approached him, an awkwardness to his gait and a sad look on his face. He didn't realize how happy the note had made Chac, but he was about to find out.

 

“I got your letter. Vilkas, you don't know what this means to me.”

 

“...”

 

Chac twiddled his fingers, afraid to look his dearest in the eyes “I feel the same way you do. This time we're spending apart hurts so much I can barely stand it. I know you don't want to hear any more apologies from me, so I'm going to spare you.”

 

“Thank you, Chac.”

 

“Do you want to take a walk with me? We can talk on the way?”

 

“...Okay. Lead the way.” Vilkas didn't want to say no even if his anger told him to, he needed to hear Chac out. He knew every minute he spent next to the Bosmer he loved would make him as eager as ever to make this right. Together they left Jorrvaskr, the cool Spring air fogging their breath. They kept a distance as they walked side by side, both having trouble finding a pace to walk with the other.

 

“You're right about taking a trip together. We need to get away from this place, just you and I like old times. We _need_ to talk about this more than ever, because I know what you're feeling-”

 

“You don't know what I'm feeling.” Vilkas snaps, unable to hide his bitterness.

 

“I _do,_ Vilkas. Don't say that. I've been in more agony since the day I fucked up than I have ever felt in my life. What I did to you, to Farkas, it haunts me so badly that I can't sleep. I can't eat, I can't have a moment of peace knowing the pain you're in is my fault.”

 

“As you should.”

 

“Please listen to me. I've never cried so hard in my life, for so long. I want to fix this, and I know you do too, because what you said in your note wasn't a lie. We can't keep living this way, you and I both know we belong together. I can't live without you, and now that I am forced to, I can feel every part of me fade.”

 

Vilkas' heart dropped to his feet hearing that; he knew Chac's life meant so much to Tamriel's safety. Chac's quest to defeat Alduin was far from complete, and he was now more knowing that _his_ life was keeping Chac's afloat. He let Chac continue.

 

“We need to go back to the source. To Mara's temple, so I can pray for forgiveness. So we can both pray for closure.”

 

“Do you really think Mara's blessing is going to make me forgive you?”

 

“No, I don't. But she'll guide us, I know she will.” Chac had always been much more faithful in the gods than Vilkas had ever been, and the Nord frankly thought his idea was foolish. “Who better than the Goddess of love to help us find a way?”

 

“...I'll go. But It's going to take more than simply praying yourself back into my life, Chac.” Vilkas stopped dead in his tracks, glaring at the elf who wronged him. Chac looked up to him sheepishly, wishing only to reach out and hold the man. “We need to leave immediately. If Farkas finds out, I'm afraid he might try to kill you.”

 

“Heh, I'm sure he would, too. Fine then, we leave today. Right now.”

 

This was going to be painful, but Chac was an optimist and the years they'd spent together had rubbed off on the Nord. Walking home awkwardly, Chac chose to gather his things at Breezehome while Vilkas prepared for the journey to Riften. A big part of him thought to just lock his room and forget about the whole thing, but he needed to be courageous; he couldn't let the fear of heartache hold him back. With a deep breath he readied himself, leaving out the secret door before anyone could catch wind of what he was up to.

 

Down the road Chac waited, Vilkas forgetting how strapping Chac looked in his armor. He wouldn't let a drop of it show, merely sneering at the elf “Let's go, I hope you've got a horse because I'm not making the trip to Riften on foot.”

 

“Uh, heh. I don't, actually. Bandits took her while I was sleeping.”

 

“...Great. Well, I'll wait while you buy one. Make sure it's fast.” Vilkas couldn't stop himself from being so nasty even though he wanted to, his mind wanted to punish Chac every chance he could get while his heart wanted to forgive him. The elf bore the burden well, unflinching to Vilkas' rude ways. The Companion was soon climbing into the saddle of his black-as-night stallion, waiting at the crossroads.

 

“Give me the fastest one you've got. I've got to keep up with him, over there.” Chac smiles sadly, the old stablemaster squinting and recognizing Vilkas from afar.

 

“Oh, that snobby bastard? Sure, I've got just the horse for you.” Chac's smile vanishes while the old man grabs the reigns of the most curmudgeonly, arthritis-riddled mare he'd ever seen and leads her out to Chac's side. “She's 1000 up front, no loans. And watch out, she's got a kick that could knock your teeth to Sovngard.”

 

“...Are you sure this is the right horse for me?”

 

“She's faster than she looks. Don't let the hunch in her back fool you.”

 

“It's fooling me. Are you sure I can't have a different one?”

 

“Ain't no different one. It's either her or your arches.”

 

“Fine. What's her name?”

 

“Crappy.”

 

“Crappy?”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

Chac had no choice. As he climbed up into her saddle he was sure the weight on her back would turn the mare to dust; but surprisingly she stood firm, fussing at the bit. Vilkas was definitely going to say something but he'll deal with it later. “Come on, Crappy. Hopefully your name doesn't suit you.”

 

Sauntering up to Vilkas down the hill, he was met with the look he already had envisioned in his mind that Vilkas would have. That snide, judging look on his face he used to think was just so sexy. Vilkas opened his mouth to say something but Chac already had something waiting for him.

 

“Now I know she looks like crap, that's her name. Crappy. Stablemaster promised she was quick as a whip.”

 

“...Is she blind?”

 

“What? No. Why?”

 

“Nothing. She just looks blind. Well I hope she can keep up with Kjelstar.” Vilkas sighs, moving his horse to walk ahead without looking behind him. Chac wasn't expecting Vilkas to coddle him, to act like he wanted to make this right even though deep down he knows it was true. Spending all that time with the uptight Nord let him know that the ride together will warm his heart.

 

Together they rode, Chac's horse refusing to walk any faster than she wished, Vilkas constantly having to pull back his wily steed to make sure he was at least within earshot of Chac. The ride was so damn uncomfortable for him, this was the longest they've been in each others company since a week before their wedding. Chac could find little to talk about at first, until the turn around the mountain bend brought up a sweet memory they shared.

 

“Remember the last time we passed this ruin?” Chac smiles, kicking Crappy to keep up.

 

Vilkas didn't turn around. “Mhm.” was all he could muster up.

 

“Oh yeah? Heh, then what happened?”

 

Vilkas bit back a snarl “If you're going to bring up something and not talk about it, then what's the point of saying anything at all?”

 

“I was just trying to make conversation, is all.”

 

“I remember what happened. I'm just not understanding why you had to ask me that, as if I didn't know.”

 

“You know, it would help if you said something to me. I'm trying, Vilkas.”

 

The Nord turned around with fire in his eyes to shoot down the elf, but when he caught eyes with Chac he felt that fury inside him choke up and stop all at once. The anger clear on his features just faded slowly, and he could do no more than look down at the road. Chac had already steeled himself for the punishment, but when it didn't come he was relieved.

 

“I know you're trying. I'm...I..Sorry, I should try too.” Vilkas paused a long while, passing the ruin and looking up at it with sadness. “I wrangled every bandit onto that bridge, and you shouted them all off into the river. That's what happened...it..It was funny.”

 

“Oh it was more than funny. It was pure genius.” Chac smiles, and Vilkas crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Fight it, Vilkas. This won't get better if you don't let him in.

 

“You should try that trick off the tallest cliff you can find.” Vilkas adds.

 

“I know just the place, and just the guy. You know who I'm thinking about...”

 

Vilkas' gears turned, fighting his angered thoughts and thinking of anyone Chac could hate more than himself right now. “Heimskr?” He looked back and saw the Bosmer shake his head “Nazeem?” Another no.

 

“Not in Whiterun, think more East.”

“Ulfric?”

 

“That's the bastard. I'd love to see that cloak of his keep him from making a greasy smear on the rocks when I shout him off the Throat of the World.”

 

“....I suppose he does deserve it more than anyone.” Vilkas didn't laugh with Chac. He did understand though, and the short exchange already melted a bit of that ice off from the wall around him. The fifteen plus hours that followed on their gentle ride down to Riften was filled with simple conversation, nothing beyond sharing of memories or comments on what they'd been doing since the “accident”.

 

Chac couldn't worm his way past Vilkas' barrier today, he didn't expect to, but he knew both of them wouldn't quit until they found a way to find peace. It was already past midnight when they arrived at Riften's gates, the mist so heavy in the air one couldn't see 10ft ahead of them. The smell of the lakeside and night blossoms was beautiful though, a refreshing escape for Vilkas.

 

“Halt. What business do you have here in Riften?”

 

“It's me, Chac. What, you don't recognize me?”

 

“Chac? Never heard o-...oh! OH! Forgive me thane, I'm new to the force.”

 

“Hey, It's late and it's dark. Don't worry about it.” Chac stepped off the saddle and allowed the whelp guard to lead his and Vilkas' horse to the stables. Chac offered to carry Vilkas' travel pack but the Nord wouldn't let him, both walking into the walled city to be greeted by the sight of beggars lining the streets, sleeping on cheap mats. The civil war had been rough on Riften, to think the temple of Mara dwells here was rather ironic.

 

“Well, the temple's bound to be closed at this hour. Why don't we go to the Bee and Barb for something to eat before turning in?”

 

“Aye, I suppose.” Vilkas felt so uneasy at the thought that he'd be seen in public again with Chac, in the city which celebrated the wedding that failed miserably. He couldn't hide the sadness in his eyes as he led himself to the Inn, walking in with his eyes scanning the thankfully empty tavern for an open seat. He picked the table with the other chair at the far end, hoping to sit far enough away from Chac that he wouldn't feel pain.

 

“Just something quick, I'm not looking for anything fancy.”

 

“Sure. I'm buying, you already know that.”

 

“Heh, no you're not.”

 

“We'll see about that. You stay there, I'll order.”

 

“Nothing big, alright? Or else I won't eat it.” Vilkas called out, mumbling a quiet “ah, shit.” when he was sure Chac didn't hear him. The elf was already leaning over the counter, gently waking the snoozing Argonian woman.

 

“Blargh! Wha-whaddya want- I mean, oh, Dragonborn! Mercy, you scared me.” She peeks over the edge of her bar and sees Vilkas with his back turned, and the look of shock on her face couldn't have been more clear. Chac shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to talk about it; he merely ordered something he knew Vilkas would like. He knew so much about Vilkas, after all.

 

“Have a seat with your uh-erm, well have a seat.” She remembers months ago preparing her entire Inn for their wedding, cooking up a feast for the guests...and the chaos that ensued afterwards. She wouldn't say anything. Chac pulled up a seat next to Vilkas, seeing how he shied away that little bit. He felt just as awkward being here, there was no point in pretending it wasn't there.

 

“So...”

 

“...”

 

“Tomorrow's a new day. I already know Maramal won't let me into the temple unless he receives word from you, first.”

 

“Why would he need my blessing?”

  
“Hah, uh, when I went to the temple last, I was kicked out. I'm not allowed back in until I've ...received forgiveness from you.”

 

“But you don't have my forgiveness.”

 

“I know. A technicality I plan on fixing, Vilkas. But we came all the way here to find help in the temple.”

 

“I understand what you're trying to say. We both go in asking for help, I'm sure they cannot turn us away.”

 

“They won't. They're obligated to help us, two lovers in need.”

 

Vilkas winced at those words. Before they had the chance to continue the food was already served to them, Keerava awkwardly baring her toothy smile at Vilkas. He looked so different than he did those months ago, much angrier... much darker. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”

 

On Vilkas' plate was exactly what he would have ordered; a modest cut of venison extra rare, a baked potato overflowing with butter. Chac knew him so well, and that in itself was painful. The elf's meal was twice the size, but Vilkas likewise knew Chac could eat with the biggest of them. Neither said a thing while finishing their meals in awkward silence. The Bosmer watched the way Vilkas held his knife, the bob of his throat while he swallowed. All of these simple things that Vilkas did that where so beautiful that Chac had missed so dearly in their months apart. To be near him like this was utter bliss.

 

“We should turn in. Iona must have kept the house in great shape since I've been gone.”

 

“Ah, achem. You can go on ahead to your home. I'll be staying here for the night.”

 

Chac's smile vanished. That distant looking Vilkas' frown was more than enough of a hint that Vilkas still couldn't be near him. So be it, he couldn't be so eager. Vilkas stood stiffly, reaching into his pouch of coin to find enough for a room upstairs. Chac said nothing as he walked away, seeing the love of his life walk up the stairs and away from him without as much as a goodnight.

 

By the time Vilkas reached the top of the stairs, he wanted to collapse. Not from tiredness, but the sheer exhaustion his heart endured all of today. He knew walking away from Chac just then was unnecessary, that he could have been nicer about it, but gods he just couldn't do it. Vilkas fought the mist that started in his eyes when he opened his room and threw off his armor, crawling into his bed for two and staring out the glass window.

 

He was here months ago, with such happiness in his heart. How unfair life seemed, he thought..until he was reminded _why_ he was here again in the first place. To make this right, to fight through the troubled times and take back the life he knows he can still have. Vilkas felt now like running down the stairs and finding Chac, to be near him, but motionless he stays until sleep claims him.

 

And Chac lay in his own bed, the one he'd shared with Vilkas so many times. The bed was cold and empty, the Dragonborn laying awake and staring at the empty space beside him for such a long time that he forgot he was supposed to be sleeping. He prayed that night to Mara out loud, staring at the same moon Vilkas watched.

 

He begged for a way to make this right, for any sort of guidance to lead these tormented hearts back on the right path. There was nothing Chac needed more in his life than to have Vilkas back in it, and he knows the Nord feels the same way. Please Mara, help him. Guide these lost souls back to the warmth of love, which they so deserve.

 

 

 


	2. Her Benevolence

When Chac woke, he could have sworn he felt the warmth of something beyond this mortal coil, something godly that kindled his bones to move from their lonely prison. He hoped and prayed that it was Mara, the benevolent deity whom had blessed him so often in the past; the warmth filled his spirit with courage. Dressing in his armor, he said a prayer aloud “Help us find a way. I know Vilkas still loves me, and only you know just how deeply I love him. I’ll do anything. Please, anything.”

With that in mind, he made his way to find Vilkas. It wasn’t a hard task, the tall Nord shone like a star among the rabble that putted around the Bee and Barb this early in the morning. There he waited, a morning brew nearly finished and hair pinned back neatly “Chac… Listen, I-”

“How long did I keep you waiting?”

Vilkas was going to tell him he was sorry for what he did last night, leaving him like that. He’d spent so long in his rented bed regretting that, wishing he could have what he has right now and to be beside Chac. He didn’t, words to be left unspoken. “Not long, there was some awful noise on the street this morning. Woke me up with a start.” Vilkas stood, armor gleaming by firelight “I was considering checking out the trouble..but it was..”

“It was..?”

“Nothing.” Vilkas lost his train of thought so quickly, seeing the bags under Chac’s tattooed eyes which matched his perfectly. “I went back to bed..so how did you sleep?”

“Not so well. I spent most of the night and the morning praying.”

Vilkas never thought much of prayer. He often communed with the dead when the time seemed right, but the Nord was far too jaded for hopeful worship. Chac led the way, opening the door for him into the chilly morning air. “When I woke, I felt such a warmth. Did you feel the same way?”

“…I did.” Vilkas admits, he was unsure what that heat was, blossoming from his chest while he gently woke this morning. He assumed it was the fire from downstairs, but hearing Chac speak of it now was unnerving. Riften’s streets where crowded from the morning market, smells of freshly baked bread combating the awful updrafts of the dock’s stagnant water. The temple lie farther up the city, and the two had to duck and weave their way through waves of peddlers to reach it.

“The war’s been hard on Riften. I’ve never seen so many beggars on one street.” Chac sighs, he often found himself in the beginning handing out septims to the downtrod in this city, but now he thinks he’d be broke by the time he’d even reach the Keep. Vilkas shared his sentiment, it was painful seeing so many elderly reduced to rags. The poor sight softened his heart by the time they’d reached the temple’s gates, opened wide to accept any and all who needed Mara’s warmth.

Vilkas felt such pain in his heart then, remembering the agonizing walk down these very stairs and back to Jorrvaskr, his life in ruins. How he spent the next few days clueless as to Chac’s whereabouts, not knowing if his fiance was alive or dead… the anguish creeped back inside Vilkas and left him silent. Chac was no better, standing beside him at the top of the steps with a deep breath. This was it.

“We made it. I can’t enter until Maramal hears your plea. Just… keep an open mind, Vilkas. They’ll only want to help us.”

“I’ll let you do the talking once we both get in there. I’m no good with all of this godly…stuff.” He wanted to say ‘nonsense’, but Chac was right. He needed to keep an open mind. Inside, the temple smelled of incense. Of memories he couldn’t snuff out.

He walked the pews alone, looking up into the bronze and melancholy face of Mara’s statue. Where so many saw a benevolent entity, he only felt skepticism. He felt as if he was alone in there for much longer than he was, until the gentle voice of a woman woke him from his musings.

“Greetings to you, child. All are welcome in the temple of Mara.” Such a pleasant, comforting warmth in a voice slowly revealed itself from the hall. A Dunmer woman who Vilkas recognized immediately; she was one of the priestesses who comforted Vilkas during the final hours of his failed wedding.

“Oh, Vilkas.” Her eyes softened, pitch black eyes which only radiated a warmth no mortal could gain. “It was revealed to me that you’d come to our door. The only question was ‘when?'”

“You knew I was coming?”

“That I did.” Only now did Vilkas realize the tiny sound of an infant crying just beyond the door, the child she was pregnant with last Vilkas had seen her. “There was no question in my mind that you’d come back to us, and your Dragonborn partner. He is here too, isn’t he?”

“He said he wasn’t allowed in until Maramal deemed him worthy.”

“Do you feel he is worthy?” Dinya asks, wanting to see just how this young man handled such a hardship after that awful day.

“I don’t… I don’t know. We came here looking for guidance.”

“Bring him to me. All are welcome.”

“Where is Maramal?”

“He’s on pilgrimage to Falkreath, seeing through to the passage of the dead. Mm, wait at the altar, I’m afraid my child cannot wait.” Vilkas wasn’t sure why he was expecting something awful to happen, to be denied and turned away for whatever reason. He felt a bit foolish at the thought, going to the doorway and peeking outside, only to see Chac was in the garden, picking flowers.

“What are you doing?”

“Gathering a bouquet for the altar..”

Vilkas sneered a bit, seeing the large amount of flowers Chac had bundled into his arm “But Chac, those flowers already belong to the temple. You can’t just pick them like that.”

“They do belong to the temple, but they aren’t on the altar, are they?” Chac smiles softly, glad now that he can enter. Vilkas didn’t know what to say, he’d otherwise been charmed by the elf’s wit, but he could only hold a terrible anxiety behind a cold glare. What would happen within this temple could make or break their very lives to come.

By the time they’d reached the altar, Dinya was already there. She was holding a chubby infant in her arms, a half-breed baby bearing the features of a Dunmer, but the color of a Redguard. Chac couldn’t think of anything to say other than an apology for what he’d done those months ago, until the infant reached a tiny hand out to him.

“A beautiful baby you have there.” He smiles, Dinya’s gaze as warm as Mara’s boon.

“She enters this world half man, half elf. Her struggles in this society have been assigned to her at birth. We all bear struggles, all of us. Even a king with the most lavish of lifestyles must face strife just as my child, here. Whether we are crushed by them, or we overcome, that is not for the gods to decide. But with their eyes upon us and love in our hearts, we can find the will to conquer strife.”

They both listened on in silence, drawn in by the motherly tone of the priestess. She sized up the two, the sadness that weighed so heavily on their shoulders was a veritable aura she could see with her very eyes. “That is why you come to Mara. You seek solace, to ease the burdens on your unhappy souls. This is true, isn’t it?”

Vilkas glanced to Chac, seeing the pious reverence in his eyes. He’d do the talking, Vilkas had no clue what to say..

“I’ve made mistakes that have been tearing us apart since the night of our wedding.. and time only seems to make the pain grow deeper. I come seeking Mara’s forgiveness, hoping that Her benevolence will lead us back to each other.”

“These flowers are for the temple? Place them on the altar, Chac.” She watches the Bosmer fill the bowl before Mara’s statuary with the bouquet, kneeling respectfully before Her grace. “Mara does not turn away those who seek shelter in Her embrace. I can see the love you have for this man in your eyes, Chac. I could see it the moment you walked into this temple.”

She turned to Vilkas, the baby resting in her arms. The Nord felt scrutinized, both pairs of ebony eyes on him.

“You must know how dearly Chac loves you. But Chac must also know, do you love him?”

Vilkas’ heart dropped, he stared over at the artist and his words completely clammed up inside him. He knew he loves Chac, the fire of his love was weakened but not extinguished…still, he couldn’t say it. Chac’s brow furrowed when Vilkas said nothing.

“If you want to salvage what is left of this love, you need to be able to tell him. To tell yourself that you can still love.”

“…I can’t.” His pride, his anger, would not allow it. Dinya lowered her head and stared at the bowl of flowers before Mara’s eyes. The auras of energy that she’d always been able to see shifted, grew darker around the two men.

“I see. There is a darkness around you two that clouds your very sight. The pain you feel can be lifted, but it is impossible for you to see into your own heart as long as this darkness remains.”

“How can we lift it? There must be some way.” Chac’s voice nearly breaks, to the point of begging Dinya for some relief. The pain he felt not hearing Vilkas’ words cut him deeply.

“Each of us represents a small candle in the dark. Mara bestows upon us all a light the day of our birth, and it may only grow brighter when sharing the warmth of another light close by. Hundreds of candles gather, hundreds of loves, and they will illuminate each other’s paths until there is a brilliance as bright as sunshine for all. In order for you to see the light, you must first spread yours to others who are also in the dark.”

“I…don’t understand.” Vilkas frowns, understanding just enough to know he had a task before him. Chac looked willing, nodding eagerly. Dinya knew she’d have to simplify it for him, Vilkas not indoctrinated on the ways of Mara.

“In order for you to reconcile your love, you must first achieve a greater understanding of love.” Dinya cast a glowing hand onto the altar, an intense red aura appearing over the flowers Chac had donated. Her eyes flicked across the illusion “The Goddess has relayed a message to me. Fickle young love, in danger of waning… the town of Ivarstead. A young girl, Fastred, is praying for Mara’s rescue.”

“What can we do to help her?”

“Go to her. Give her the guidance she seeks, and help a young love blossom into something beautiful. If you can do this, I’m sure you will see how fragile love can be, but how much it can turn the tides of someone’s life.”

Chac doesn’t think he could be more excited than he is; a message from the Goddess herself? There was hope at last, and if Dinya’s words where true, then he and Vilkas could receive Mara’s boon. This could work, it has to. When the magic faded around the altar, Vilkas tapped his heel on the floor in a confusion.

“So, we help this girl, and come back?”

Dinya’s eyes softened, the whimsy of her speech toned down back to reality “Don’t see it as a task to simply complete, Vilkas. You need to want to help, with all of your heart. You and Chac must work together, and must not forget to share your friendship along the way.”

Chac knew he could do it, but Vilkas could only agree. This was going to be harder on him than anyone else, but he was up to the challenge. If this is what they came all the way here for, he wasn’t going to half-ass it. “I’m ready.”

“As am I.”

“Go, and spread the gift of love in this land parched of benevolence.” Dinya bid them farewell, watching the damaged lovers leave the temple. She prayed for their safety and good fortune for them; it was painful to see something as beautiful as this rare sort of love to be snuffed out in such a dark time for Skyrim.

They said nothing all the way to the stables, but Chac was filled with such a purpose that he was simply glowing. Kjelstar and old Crappy awaited them, Vilkas climbing into the saddle and giving a big sigh “I’m not even sure where to start. We don’t exactly come off as the “disciple” sort, you know.”

“I have a feeling everything will turn out fine. She’s looking for help, and we’re going to do whatever it takes to make sure she gets it.” It took at least a good 5 kicks to get the old mare to move, but once she did, there was no stopping her. Chac openly yelled when Crappy the horse bolted like lightning out into the road towards Ivarstead-

“Chac! By Shor get the damn thing to stop!” Vilkas cried out, his black horse catching up just in time for Vilkas to see Chac turn around to look at him with saucer-wide eyes, getting hit by branches leaning into the overgrown path.

“Stop! Fuckin’…oh gods, STOP CRAPPY!” Chac roars, pulling this way and that on her reigns, his power over animals seemingly having no effect on the crazed beast. Vilkas watched in horror as the horse bolted towards the nearest tree, jumping high enough for Chac to get hit in the chest by the lowest hanging branch, knocking him clean off the horse and onto the ground flat on his ass.

“Chac! Are you alright?!” Vilkas’ horse stopped on a dime, the Nord jumping off and to Chac’s side, grabbing the elf by the shoulders and pulling him up to sit.

“My ass!” He gasps, looking around for any signs of the horse he’d just bought. “Oh gods, my ass.” Vilkas looked more concerned than he had in months, helping the Bosmer up to stand, seeing him dust off his armor. “If we find that horse, I’m going to feed her troll shit.”

“If we find her.” Vilkas sighs, his heart still racing from the chase. “…here. Jump on, I’m not going to make you walk.” Chac is led up to Kjelstar, seeing Vilkas climb into his saddle with a hand stretched out to him.

“Are you sure?”

“Get up. We have a mission.” Vilkas and he touch for what feels like the first time in ages, Chac climbing up with his thighs resting on Vilkas’ hips. The closeness was awkward, but for some reason Chac thought it was Mara’s way of getting them closer for this enlightening journey.

“Fastred awaits.” He sighs, fighting his urge to wrap his arms around Vilkas’ waist. May this be the start of something amazing for them both.


	3. Love's Price

One tended to forget the strife that ravaged the lands of Skyrim when you came upon such a small settlement like Ivarstead. The town never seemed to change, Vilkas had been frequenting this collection of homes since he was a young lad, forever shadowed by the might of the mountain. If anything the town seemed to be getting smaller and smaller each time he passed by, Vilkas and his companion riding in over the cobbled bridge.

 

“Look! I can't believe it! That's the horse, right there!” Chac cried out, pointing over to the grassy knoll on which his untrustworthy steed stood, munching away. “That shit, she knew exactly what roads to take. Huh, not a surprise..”

 

“She's probably traveled them her entire life.” Vilkas mutters, dismounting his stallion with Chac soon to follow.

 

“Yeah, heh, you'd figure she'd have the decency not to look me in the eye like she's doing right now. You should be ashamed of yourself, Crappy!” Chac cried out, his ass still hurting from the beating it took just a few short hours ago.

“I don't think she's ashamed. Come on, let's find this Fastred before the sun falls behind the mountain.” Vilkas didn't look so welcoming, not that he ever did, but if they wanted this to work the girl shouldn't need to fear her saviors.

 

“This is going to be good, Vilkas. Trust me, you'll love how it'll make you feel.” Chac wished to grab Vilkas' hand and lead him on, but the Nord stayed a cold distance behind him, following the eager elf all the way into town. The sound of a water wheel creaking, of wood being chopped.. this was the picturesque serenity that Skyrim no longer had. People here where so clueless to the war that waged on just beyond the forest, of the abject poverty fellow Nords suffered.

 

“This place, it's always so quiet. Sometimes I wonder what a life lived here would be like..” Vilkas sighs, wondering if it would at all be easier, free of the pain he's feeling now.

 

“Very boring, I think. Being stuck in one place for so long? Would drive any man crazy.”

 

“I suppose. Look, there's the Inn. We can ask about the girl in there. I doubt there's anyone who's a stranger around these parts.” Vilkas invited himself into the building, being met with the smell of stale mead, the absent look on the owner's face. Wilhelm looked worse for wear, that bald spot on his head growing as the years go by.

 

“Ysmir's beard! I never thought I'd see the Dragonborn show up at my inn again! Heading up to High Hrothgar again, I take it?” being reminded of his duties made Chac grimace, he didn't want to think about his fate at a time like this.

 

“No, we're simply here to find a girl. Fastred? She...called for the companion's assistance, and we're here to answer.”

 

“Huh, I can't imagine anything that girl would need help with, unless she's sweet on your strapping friend over here and sent for a date.” Wilhelm chuckles, admiring the handsome man Chac brought in with him. Vilkas had his interest piqued by the compliment, wondering what sort of trouble this girl had gotten herself in.

 

“So, she's having some..heh, boy troubles?” Vilkas asks, cracking a smile for the first time in so long.

 

“Well, you'd know better than me. You got the note from her after all! But I'd say the only problem she has at the end of the day is which of the local boys to cling to next. You didn't hear it from me, though. Old Jofthor would have my hide.”

 

Chac seemed to remember that name well enough. “Oh, Jofthor's her father? I think I'm beginning to remember meeting this girl once before.”

 

“Well it's hard to miss anyone on the way through here. Folks around Ivarstead are as starved for company as they are for a decent meal. Anyway, you should find the whole family up on the hill, by the farm. Gods know they never go anywhere else.”

 

“Thanks Wilhelm, we'll..let you know if everything turns out alright.”

 

“Not a problem. Don't forget to bring your friend!”

 

“Heh. You'll see me around, too.” Vilkas smirks, feeling the eyes of the old codger on him on their way out. If there is anyone around here starved for company, it might be _him_. The second they closed the door behind them, Chac had to grin.

 

“I'm pretty sure he's in love with you, Vilkas. Looks like we're spreading Mara's wealth without even knowing it.” the two feeling a bit warmer around each other, Chac nudged the Nord on the arm and saw the way he bit back a smile. He knew Vilkas liked to be praised for his good looks, no matter who gave the praise.

 

“You don't have to be jealous, Chac.” Vilkas walks ahead of him, Chac stopping only to take in the sight of his hopefully husband-to-be and his beguiling stride. He found himself loving the man more and more even if Vilkas had been so cruel to him these past months. Chac was so damn excited for this that he had completely forgotten for the moment they had a job to do-

 

“Keep up, I think I see the farm just ahead.” Vilkas and he made their way up the hill, sunshine beating down on their armor giving them a foreign glow among the commoners. The soil was tilled under their feet and they came in sight of a well-built older man slaving away in circles on a wheat grinder.

 

“Jofthor, do you remember me?” Chac approached him, smiling as warmly as the sun. The old man did a doubletake, shocked by the sight of the Dragonborn once again at his doorstep.

 

“How could I forget?” He stops his endless toil, wiping his brow to lean against the grinder “The Dragonborn shows up, and the town doesn't shut up about it for days!” His ill mood was apparent at that point, Vilkas crossing his arms in discomfort as his boots sank further into the dirt. “So, what'dya want?”

 

“Erm, well, how are you, first off?”

 

“Just as good as any other day I suppose. Unless you count the fact that my wife's been running off and my daughter's driving me crazy!”

 

“Oh? How so?”

 

“I'd tell you, but I'm pretty sure if you met her she'd tell you all about it until she was blue in the mouth. Crazy girl's fallen in love with some loafin' prettyboy who wants to take her to Riften. She doesn't realize how dangerous the world is outside, she's living in a dream and she needs to wake up.”

 

Things where starting to make more sense now. Vilkas felt as if he had to interject “You're right. Ivarstead is one of the last places in Skyrim you could go where the most you had to worry about is a pack of wolves. But the reason why we're here is because of your daughter. She's called for the services of the Companions, and we're here to answer.”

 

“What!? I know what your services go for! Doesn't she know we don't have that kind of money?! Where is that-... Fastred!”

 

“Oh! Erm, that won't be necessary, we're simply here to talk. There's no price on a little chat, so don't worry.” Chac butts in, afraid of mucking up the gentle balance of this quest. It looked as if the anger of her father's voice called the young woman out, a plainly-dressed brunette some 15 years younger than Vilkas rushing out into the fields.

 

“What's with all the noise, Da? I'm- oh! Visitors!” Chac definitely recognized the girl, a pretty face unhardened by a scary life. When she saw the two she already seemed to know the reason for their arrival.

 

“Have you been contacting these mercenaries?! Of all the nerve, Fastred!”

 

A squabble broke out before their very eyes, Chac and Vilkas standing idly by while the farmers battled it out. Fastred seemed hellbent on getting herself and the two out of this situation, and she was not above turning tail and marching her way out into the street, beckoning the Companions to follow.

 

“Gods, I'm so sorry about that. My father is old, and set in his ways. He doesn't realize just how badly I need to get out of this wretched town.”

 

It wasn't until they where far enough down the road did Chac decide to let her know just what she'd been assuming. “Fastred, we come in the name of Mara. She's heard your plight and-”

 

“Oh thank Mara! Thank her! You don't know how long I've prayed for this day.”

 

“Tell us what troubles you.” Vilkas stepped in closer behind Chac, seeing the look of despair in the young lady's eyes and finding it...heartwarming. All at once what he was doing was just starting to feel good. To feel _right._

 

“It's Bassianus. Surely you've seen him! He's got long, flowing red hair and the most beautiful eyes. I'm certain I'm in love with him, and he's in love with me. He wants to take me to Riften where we can be together at last, he wants to show me the world. But my father doesn't approve of him; says he's useless and that he's not a real man. But only a real man would treat me the way Bassianus does! I want to go with him, I've never been more sure of anything in my life!” The poor girl was close to tears as she spoke of her lover.

 

“Do you think there's any way we can get your father to understand?” Chac asks, placing a hand on Fastred's small shoulder. She fell into his arms immediately, holding back frustrated sobs against Chac's neck. The elf glanced at Vilkas all the while, knowing she was better off crying on his shoulder.

 

“I don't know! He won't listen to me, and he chases Bassianus off the farm every time he comes looking for me! You could..you could try talking to my mother. She doesn't hate him the way my father does.”

 

“We'll do whatever it takes, Fastred. Just..take a walk, Vilkas and I will take care of everything.”

 

“Thank you.” she sniffs, hugging Chac tightly before leaving for the bridge. Chac and Vilkas had to plan what they should do with such a delicate situation.

 

“So, one of us should speak to her parents, while the other finds this Bassianus fellow.” Chac thinks, Vilkas nodding in agreement “It just seems the best way, without stirring up too much drama.”

 

“You know her parents more than I, I think I can find the boy. What did she say he had? _Long, flowing red hair_?” He shouldn't be too hard to find, Vilkas and Chac both nod at each other as they make their way back into town “Find out what you can, Chac. Fastred seems like a sweet girl, if her father was right about this boy then she'd be better off with someone else.”

 

They parted ways, Vilkas glancing back to see Chac's form disappear into the distance. It was a breath of relief being alone, but he soon found himself wishing for the elf's company again when he searches the town high and low, with no sign of this red-haired man's man. The last place he'd tried was back at the Inn, somewhat wary of the situation he's putting himself into by showing up in the bar alone.

 

Like a stone golem, the bar owner remained utterly motionless until Vilkas had crossed the threshold into the light. There was no one in here other than him, and the way he sprung to life so suddenly made Vilkas' heart jump in his chest. He didn't really _want_ to be here, but he was sure Wilhelm knew where anyone was in this town.

 

“Well, that went fast, didn't it? You Companions sure do work fast!”

 

“Ah, actually I came in here looking for someone.”

 

“Aw, and here I was hoping you'd have come in for the free drink I was planning on giving you.”

“I actu-”

 

“Nope! No turning this one down! Any friend of the Dragonborn's is a friend of mine. Come, have a seat. I'll let you know anything you want, and then some.” Vilkas began to feel a little wary of the situation, watching the older man root through his bar in search of the cleanest mug he could find. Feeling as though he could spend the extra few minutes with a free drink, he fell for it. “Pick your poison. I've got mead, ale, whiskey..ah, actually, I think I'm all out of whis-”

 

“An ale is good enough, thank you. There's no going wasting the good stuff on me.” Vilkas grins, seeing how lively the man had become just by sitting at his bar. It's probably been ages since anyone but locals came in, by the looks of it Wilhelm had foregone nearly all upkeep of the place.

 

“Nonsense. A special guest deserves special treatment. I've got some brandy here for you, I insist.” The man nervously poured the stiff drink into the mug, Vilkas watching in hidden amusement at how his hands simply shook. “Ah- if you don't like it, I've got plenty of choices!”

 

“I'm not going to be choosy for a free drink. Thank you.” Vilkas took a sip; it tasted like something one would use to fuel a lantern. He hid the grimace well and drank enough of it to merit his stomach to roar in distress.

 

“So you're a Companion! Well the Dragonborn certainly knows how to pick his company, my my!” It was uncouth for an Innkeeper to be day drinking, but Vilkas watched him pour himself a mead and drink heavily, casting almost crazily enraptured eyes on the warrior.

 

“Aye, one of the longest-serving as of right now. I'm..surprised you haven't heard of me. Or at least seen me before.”

 

“Oh no, I wouldn't forget a face like yours. Not many people come around these parts, Ivarstead you could say is a dwindling little paradise in the forest.”

 

“You must know everyone around here, eh?”

 

“That I do. Even the ones I wish I didn't have to! Ha ha!” Wilhelm missed his mouth entirely while bringing his mead up to drink, spilling it over the table and hitting Vilkas' gauntlets. “FFF-oh, Shor, you have to forgive me. I just-”

 

“You should...probably watch what you're doing.” Vilkas smirks, in his mind thinking 'and not at me'

 

“A million pardons. Maybe I can make it up to you, a free night in the finest room of the Inn.”

 

“...I don't think I'll be needing to stay the night.” Vilkas deadpanned, trying to finish his free drink and get his information a little faster now. “You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a boy with long red hair? Bassianus, I think his name is?”

 

“Oh what would you want with that feckless thing, eh? Fastred sent you looking for him?”

 

“Aye, I need to know where to find him.”

 

“You don't need to talk to him.” Wilhelm blurts, seemingly getting angry at some unknown thought passing through his head.

 

Vilkas sighs, rubbing his temples and losing his patience “I do, Wilhelm. You're making this a little difficult for me.”

 

Wilhelm cursed it all, he knew the moment he divulged Bassianus' location Vilkas would be gone and gone for good. He stammered, trying to think of ways of keeping the silver-eyed knockout from leaving. Luck seemed to be on Vilkas' side, because as soon as Wilhelm could think of a good scapegoat, a tall man with impossibly red hair made his way into the inn.

 

“I think I've got everything I'm looking for... Thank you for the free drink, Wilhelm.” Escaping the situation as fast as he could, he could almost feel the explosions happening in Wilhelm's eyes as he glared down his young patron. Vilkas didn't make it a secret that he wanted Bassianus' attention, taking the seat right next to him and getting a good look at Fastred's lover.

 

“Bassianus, I take it?”

 

“Hmm? Yes, what is it you want?” The young man didn't give Vilkas enough attention to look him in the eye, but from where he was sitting Vilkas had to think that the man was actually quite good-looking. Older than he expected, more chiseled but thin. He could definitely see the appeal for any young girl, compared to the riffraff Ivarstead had to offer.

 

But Shor, when he opened his mouth to talk, Vilkas only wanted to cram his boot into it to shut him up. He brought up Fastred, and the young man spoke whimsically of her, of taking her away from this dreadful farmer's lifestyle. He was a dreamer, and Vilkas found out quickly that the kid had no job, not a septim to his name. He _knew_ love was more than material worth, but this Bassianus fellow had only his looks to back up a haughty, snarky attitude. He didn't even have the spine to approach Fastred's old father and stake his claim; Vilkas didn't like the kid.

 

“If you could somehow get Fastred's father to look the other way, I could just... elope! Run away and live the vagabond life with her at my side.”

 

“..But her father's an old man. Certainly you can find it in your heart to stand up to him and prove you can care for Fastred, and protect her when the need arises?”

 

“You just don't see it the way I do, don't you? Hmmph, some help you're being. Go and find a way to get the old man off my back. I'm sure you'll figure a way out.”

 

Vilkas was settled to believe that this kid didn't have the stones to stand up to a scarecrow. The repressed father figure inside Vilkas knew he wouldn't let his own daughter date a flop like this, if he had one. He knows he's supposed to let Mara sort out this fiasco, but the call of his own heart was too strong. He couldn't sleep knowing he'd let a nice girl like Fastred die without a real man to care for her.

 

He left. There was two too many distasteful men in there, and by the time he'd made it up the hill to the farm, he'd walked into a very heated conversation between Chac and the old man.

 

“-And another thing! If Fastred leaves, there'll be nothing left in Ivarstead! This place is a ghost town, and I know the second she steps foot in Riften she's a dead girl!”

 

“Hold..Hold on, my partner's back. I know you're frustrated, Jofthor, but you need to do what's right for your daughter.”

 

“Like you would know.”

 

Chac stepped away, far enough with Vilkas where the old man couldn't hear their plotting. He could smell liquor on the Nord, and he didn't bother asking. “So did you find him?”

  
“Aye. He's a right imbecile, no job and no brains. Obnoxious, too.”

 

“You where nice to him, right?”

 

Vilkas glared at him, crossing his arms “Of course, he told me to bugger off unless I sneak Fastred out of Ivarstead without her parents knowing! Kid couldn't win an argument with a horker.”

 

“That's a shame, I was under the conception that he was a decent guy.”

 

“Well, he's not. What did you find out while I was gone?”

 

“Fastred's mother is willing to buy the two time to escape, but something's bothering me. Jofthor told me not two months ago, the girl was head over heels in love with Klimmek, the fisherman down by the river. I know him, too. He's a good man.”

 

“If he's an inch better than B _assianus,_ He's worth speaking to.”

 

“I think we really need to talk about this before we make any choices. A lot of people in this town are going to be affected by this girl's troubles.” Chac sneaks himself and Vilkas away from the farm, both men taking a seat on a rock by the river, watching the water rushing past and salmon jump.

 

Together, they sat and talked. They discussed something important that wasn't about themselves, or their own struggles. It felt good putting their heads together and accomplishing something when for so long they only felt such heartache in each other's company. If this is what Mara's will was, to make them look past their troubles and see the greater good, it was working. Afternoon becoming early evening, the two stood and made their final decision.

 

“So it's settled. We find Klimmek, and see if he can win Fastred's love back. Knowing her, it shouldn't be too hard.” From what Chac had learned, Fastred and he had been “involved” in the past, but he'd failed to show her the romance she craved. It'd only take a nudge to get the guy to man up and take back what had been his.

 

Together they searched, Klimmek's rustic home was locked, and searching this time around felt a little less lonely. It grew so dark in Ivarstead, the sun long since hidden behind the massive mountain. They where lost once again, Chac having to ask an overly optimistic Bosmer brother for Klimmek's whereabouts.

 

Their search took them to the foot of the mountain, seeing a lone Nord sitting with his legs dangling over the bridge, a simple wooden fishing pole in his hands. That was him alright, and Vilkas was surprised at how much older the man was from Fastred; still, he looked like a real man. One with a job, at least.

 

“Klimmek. I have something really important to tell you!” Chac approached him, being greeted the way he always was- with shock. The elf cut straight to the chase; when Fastred's name was brought up the man simply seemed to fill with regret.

 

“Fastred.. I wish I could tell her what I really feel. I was so stupid, not giving her the attention she deserves. I'm just clueless to this sort of thing, could you blame a small-town guy like me for not knowing how to woo a girl like her?”

 

“You still have time, Klimmek. If you told her how you really feel, it'd be all the convincing she needs. If you don't go to her now, she might leave, and never come back.”

 

“I..thank you. I need to find Fastred. Thank you so much for letting me know!” Like that, the hapless Nord leaps from the bridge, and runs straight for Ivarstead. The two merely glanced at each other before they gave chase, both too intrigued to know the fruits of their mission. It's a wild goose chase, following Klimmek this way and that until he finally meets with the girl he'd lost.

 

“Klimmek! What's all the fuss about? You look exhausted!”

 

“I need to tell you something. I've been lost ever since you left me. I didn't give you the love you deserved and I'd do anything to have you back.”

 

“But Klimmek, you said.. what about your fishing career?”

 

“What good is having fish when you have to eat them alone?” Klimmek confesses, taking the young girl's hands into his own and seeing the way her fickle eyes shone so brightly. Chac could have laughed at those amateur words, but seeing the way the two Nords held each other close was just too satisfying to disturb.

 

“Oh Klimmek!” Was the last they let themselves hear, Vilkas and Chac leaving the two to their love. They said nothing for a short while, making their way back towards the town until Vilkas just had to look down at the elf with a smile. “You where right. This feels good.”

 

“Doesn't it? It's a warmth, right here” Chac presses both hands to his own chest, a skip in his step he cannot deny “Seeing a love bloom does something to the poet in me, no matter how flighty it may be.” Despite the stress they both endured, there was no denying to them both that they felt good. It was a fraction of what they where used to in the past, but Chac was sure that this was a step in the right direction.

 

Evening became night, the two deciding to revel in their accomplishments at the town's edge. Sitting around the fire, Vilkas and Chac shared smiles that where too beautiful for words. It was one of the few times that Vilkas didn't think about the horrors he endured their wedding day, didn't think about the betrayal. All he felt was a pleasant comfort, finding his friendship with Chac again little by little.

 

But something was soon wrong. Kjelstar stomped his hooves into the dirt, huffing up so much noise it startled them from their little spell. Chac's ears and eyes scanned the countryside, Vilkas reaching for his axe- “What do you see out there?”

 

Before Chac could speak, they heard a shrill scream in the distance, coming straight from the town. Scrambling to their feet and putting out the fire, the heroes raced their way towards Ivarstead, not stopping until they saw the light of the town's beacons revealing a harrowing sight. “Vilkas, they're under attack! You take the south, I'll scan the north!” The two shared an intense look before splitting ways, off to find the source of this madness.

 

Vilkas didn't have to look very far; as soon as he approached the steps of the Inn there he saw it, two figures cloaked in black with scorching red eyes glowing in the night. He'd seen them enough times to know what they where; hungry vampires looking for an easy meal. A dead guard was strewn across the center of the street, and Vilkas was ferocious in his valiant attack on the scourge.

He didn't register the pain he felt being hit by their magic, Vilkas was much stronger than that. All he could think of was the anger he felt towards them corrupting such a peaceful town, wished the problems they had today stayed so trivial. When the vampires where reduced to ash under his axe, all he could think of was Chac. If he was safe, if Fastred was safe.

 

Racing up the hill to the point of sweating, Vilkas looked about frantically on the farm, seeing it completely abandoned. Another scream caught his attention, the Nord leaping over the measly wooden fence and down to the bridge where he saw Fastred last. He ran and ran, and by the time he got there Chac was already standing there...

 

“Chac! What's happening?!”

 

The elf merely turned around, from under his helmet his eyes cast the most hauntingly dark gaze. Vilkas slowly approached, dropping his axe in utter shock of what he saw laying on the ground...who he saw. Fastred sat on her knees, fingers bloodied as she grabbed on Klimmek's shirt. The man was dead. His eyes stared lifelessly to the empty night sky, throat torn into.

 

“Gods..Chac. Fastred..” Vilkas didn't know what to say, he was mortified. The man he not hours ago saw embrace the young girl with love was now gone, but more Chac only muttered something just above earshot to Vilkas, reaching out and taking the Nord's wrist into his hands.

 

“Look, over there.”

 

Vilkas couldn't think of anything, all he felt was the unbelievable anger seeing an old woman crumpled on the floor just beyond the darkness, the body of Fastred's mother. She too had been slain like a helpless sheep, probably within mere moments of Klimmek's death. This was awful, too awful for words. Vilkas knew what he had to do, approaching the mourning young girl and getting on a knee.

 

“Fastred, no one could have seen this coming...”

 

“Please, Mara... Mara I didn't mean for this..” Fastred cried, thinking her wishful prayers have doomed her loved ones to oblivion.

 

“This isn't your fault, Fastred. None of this is your fault.”

 

“Please..just go.” She couldn't look them in the eye, couldn't fathom doing anything but weep for what she's lost. Chac wasn't responsive, didn't offer any sort of help to Vilkas in his painful attempt to aid the girl.

 

“Just GO!” She screams, wishing the devils had claimed her too. Vilkas stood, utter failure in his eyes as he walks away, Chac following him without a word. How could this have happened? While Vilkas thought of Fastred, the selfish part of Chac wondered if this was Mara's sick way of telling Chac this wasn't meant to be. How else should a man take it? Take something so gods awful like this as anything but a bad omen? He thought on the larger scale of things, what this meant for him and Vilkas, for their lives. Vilkas didn't notice Chac had stopped following him until the dim moonlight barely lit his armor from many yards away.

 

“Chac, we can't stay here. Let's just...go back to Riften.”

 

“Vilkas.”

 

“Just keep moving, we'll talk about it on the way back.”

 

“No Vilkas, I can't.” All the strength in Chac's body feels like it's being sucked clean from him by some awful spell; his face goes numb, his knees buckling under him. Vilkas' reflexes run to catch him but he's not quick enough, Chac collapsing into a pile of armor with his helmet rolling off his dreaded head.

 

“Get up, you _know_ we didn't cause any of this!” Vilkas begs him, rolling Chac onto his back, feeling his entire body consumed by shakes. He'd never seen the elf do this before, it terrified him to no end “We did what we could to help, there was no way we could have known this would happen!”

 

“I wanted so much for this to work.” Chac begs, heart absolutely shattered by what appears to him to be the final nail in this coffin. “My love for you isn't enough. One nightmare after the other, Vilkas I can't go on like this.” The stress of his entire life culminated and hit him all at once, his fate as Dovahkiin, his destroyed love; he couldn't handle it anymore.

 

“Chac don't say that. Here, let's get you out of here.” Vilkas forgot his hatred of him and lifted the elf into his strong arms, armor and all. Through the darkness of night he carries Chac through brush and high grass, back towards the stallion that waited at camp. In that time Vilkas mused over what Chac said, about his love. In that moment he knew he needed to prove Chac wrong; that his love was enough. That they could make it through this, just as they had made it through everything in the past.

 

The coals of their fire where still warm, just enough to stoke back to life while Chac lay there, disabled by his intense misery. Vilkas' hands where shaking to no end, cursing himself while getting the sooty fire bright enough to see what he was doing. He'd never seen Chac simply collapse like this, just give up.

 

“Here, drink something.” Vilkas pants, opening his flask of water and bringing the lid to his lips, only to have it choke the elf and splash along his beard. “Please Chac, relax. We can find out why this happened.” Vilkas hated this, few things scared him as deeply as seeing the elf he knows he loves fall apart.

 

Vilkas pulls off his armor, touching the elf's clammy skin exposed to the air. Chac didn't know what was happening to himself; all he could feel was an overwhelming coldness in his body, his limbs useless and his mind racing with panicked thoughts. He was certain that this was the end, that a beautiful life with Vilkas was long gone from him. He couldn't live.

 

“I can't breathe.” Chac gasps, not thinking of what came sputtering from his mouth. Vilkas didn't know what to do, resorting to scooping the panicking elf into his arms and holding him tight, tighter than ever. Chac was breathing, albeit faster than a panting dog- rapid, scary breaths that changed the elf's lips to a dark blue.

 

“Yes you can. You need to snap out of it, I can't help you until you calm down.” Vilkas traced his palm along the elf's scruffy cheek, running his thumb across Chac's cold lips. Together they lay there in the cold dirt, each minute feeling like a lifetime until Vilkas was able to pull his lover out of his attack, just enough to feel Chac go limp in his arms.

 

“ _I love you”_ Chac cries, meaning it with every fiber of his being. Fate may have cursed them, but that couldn't stop him from letting Vilkas know.

 

“I know. I know this, Chac. Nothing could be more true.”

 

The tears Chac shed after that, they where too much for Vilkas to bear. The campfire faded into nothingness, leaving the two men to weep for their pain in the utter darkness. Vilkas didn't let him go, he couldn't fathom ever doing so until Chac could find the will to keep fighting. He swore to Chac he'd be there during the worst times, and what the elf did to him those months ago couldn't make the man take back his promise.

 

Tomorrow, they'll travel back to Riften. They'll find out what happened, why Mara could let such a travesty happen to their already bruised and beaten love. But for now, it was just them and their ache.. but this time, they bore it as one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events that occurred with the vampires actually happened to Chac in game, so I decided to write them into the canon. Very fucked up, but dramatic.


End file.
